Betrayal
by MsBBSue
Summary: Nabooru's journey to adulthood and the moments leading up to her inevitable betrayal of her people's king, a man she will never bow down to... again.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Legend of Zelda characters, nor the series or anything of or relating to said title-except some games, but I do not own the rights to any of it. I am not profiting from this. This is purely for entertainment purposes.**

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**Chapter One:**

Silk curtains of pink and blues make up the walls of the halls; some are tied preventing them from closing while others blow loosely in the lazy afternoon breeze. No matter the beauty of the scenery, all I take in is the cool marble on my bare skin. I roll my cheek exhaustively on the marble, my sweat making the skin that sticks tickle as it peels from the floor.

"Take your stance!" calls Dalibora, a tall woman with a gaunt face and a near permanent frown. Slowly, I push myself from the floor, my eyes remaining low. The bruises on my arms and ache in my legs seem all I can focus on as I stand with a wobble and hunched back. "Correct your stance, Nabooru!" she demands.

I purse my lips as I try my best to bend my knees ever so slightly. "Where is your staff?" she asks as I keep my eyes at the floor. Quickly, I reach for my staff where it had landed and ready myself the way one would with a spear.

Dalibora grants me a moment of solace before rushing at me yet again. With her staff, she swipes the wood beneath my feet, knocking me back on the floor. The smack of skin on marble makes those watching even wince. This is a humiliation, not a lesson. I can feel my milk-sisters' eyes; I can sense their empathy, for only three days prior they were put through the same torment.

"Stand," Dalibora commands again, only this time she lowers her staff and relaxes her stance signifying the 'lesson' is over. I shakily obey, wary that she may well ready herself for another swipe. "Tell me why you have fail—not once, not twice—but three consecutive times to obey my orders?" she asks, frustration making a vein bulge on her neck.

I should know better, but the humiliation has angered me. "I listened to you now, did I not?" I ask taking a challenging step forward.

Dalibora's arm extends with the staff and jabs me in my stomach. I keel over, quickly regretting my words as the air escapes my lungs and pain envelopes me in a cradle of sheer excruciation.

The woman tosses her staff to the floor making it crack out loudly as she turns her attention to the surrounding girls. "It has come to my attention that some of you believe it is your goddess given right to wander the camp at nightfall, is this correct?" She waits, but none answer her for it is a punishable act she speaks of—thus me being her example.

The woman takes a deep breath, frustration chewing at her insides. "You all are still children. You must wait until your Rite of Passage before you may do such a thing—even then; you may or may not be able." Dalibora shakes her head as she walks down the line of girls. "Even _I_ cannot do everything I wish." She catches the eye of Aviel, one of my two milk-sisters.

"For instances," she starts, "Aviel and Ariel are my birth daughters. Some of the things they are being taught by their milk-mother I do not agree with—but that does not mean I may intervene at will." Aviel's face brightens to a pink and Ariel's eyes shoot to the floor. Dalibora's hands wave out as she continues, "What I am trying to say is that even though we may like to do certain things—even though we feel we are right—does not mean we are allowed to do so." She arches a brow and brings her hands to her hips as she lowers her voice. "Do I have an understanding here?"

"Yes, Mistress Dalibora," we all say in unison.

She takes a moment, her hands now slid behind her straight back. She purses her lips and then looks down at me with annoyance. "Lesson concluded." With those two words, she spins on her heels and takes her leave.

"Piss on the old bat!" Aviel growls as as she brings me to my feet. Ariel kicks my staff across the floor as if to show her own disapproval.

"Who does she think she is talking down Alma and all?" Ariel shouts in a whisper, scared Dalibora may hear otherwise.

"It is because Alma allows us to skip lessons," I say as I straighten with a wince.

"Regardless, she has no right," Aviel growls, looking in the direction Dalibora left in. She rubs my back and then smiles. "The hot springs should do you a world of good," she says.

I nod and the three of us slowly make our way out of the hall. It was hard to believe that in a few short hours, the hall we just used for combat training would be used as the dining hall. In the entire camp, the hall was the only fixed building. It was built decades before but still shone with the brightness of yesteryear.

We walk through the camp and between the marquees. There are nine in total, but we have only entered three; one being the nursery to the east, the second the child dorms located in the centre, and the third—one which none enjoyed to enter—the council dorms at the southwest side. If ones were called into the third, one was surely to be in trouble and soon to be punished—and not by the means of a humiliation.

As we pass the child dorms, my hand touches where Dalibora jabbed me. The skin is sensitive to the touch and tiny droplets of blood taint my white crop top. My body aches and I find myself wishing for the springs to be closer to the camp.

I wrap my free arm around Aviel and sigh as my head drops to her shoulder. "What is it?" she asks with a roll of her golden eyes.

I nuzzle my head and say, "Carry me?"

"I think not."

"Please?" I add quickly as she nudges my head off her shoulder.

Aviel raises her brow. "What's in it for me?"

I press my lips together in thought. "My undying love," I say.

"Sorry, love, I already have that." She smirks.

I frown slightly and begin an exaggerated limp. "Fine," I say. "I'll just… be in pain." I turn my head away dramatically. My eyes then catch those of Ariel.

"No," she says before I am even given a chance to ask.

I furrow my brow and snort as the two laugh. They were not only my milk-sister, but my friends. Alma raised us to love one another—that was something that boiled Dalibora's blood. Love, to her, was not something a Gerudo should feel. It was a weakness.

Aviel pushes back the curtain to the hot spring's pavilion. The rocks are slick from steam and purple walls of the pavilion bleed with condensation. Even in the desert, this was a treat. Yes, the waters were hot, but, with the shade from the pavilion, it made the heat enjoyable.

Quickly, I take off my clothes and lower myself gingerly into the waters. For a moment, I am unaware that Ariel and Aviel have not joined me. I close my eyes and lean myself on the walls of the spring. When I open them, I expect my milk-sisters to be beside me, enjoying the lavish water but they still stand on the stone, fully clothed exchanging glances.

That was always something I envied of them. With one look, one would know the exact thoughts of the other. They were blood sisters—twins, at that. Perhaps that was the reason for their seemingly psychic ways.

"Aren't you going to come in?" I ask.

Ariel shakes her head. "Alma wanted us to help with the nursery after lessons," she says. "I'll make sure to tell her why you are not with us."

I lull my head back. "I completely forgot—,"

"Don't worry, Nabooru," Aviel says. "She'll understand… she always understands." I nod and say my thanks before the two leave the springs.

I take a deep breath and dunk my head as I lay back and float in the water. With the pavilion to myself, I was not going to waste the space. I close my eyes once more and allow myself to feel the water take away my pain. Such a curious thing it was. Some said it was due to fairies burrowed under the grounds, others believed the water was blessed by the Sand Goddess herself, but all knew the water was beneficial.

As I float, I begin to hum—nothing in particular, but it is noise, something this place never seemed to lack with its usual clutter of women. I feel a rush of steam hit my face and instinctually know that the edge of the spring is near and soon I will either have to redirect myself or take a seat along the wall. Bubbles rush around my body as the water burns up. The south end was always hotter.

"You have quite a lovely voice—,"

I startle in the water, splashing as I try to stand up. My eyes look about wildly for the source of the voice as I press myself along the rock walls of the spring. I feel my face brighten. What I am pressed against does not have the texture of stone, but more the smoothness of skin.

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**As always, reviews are much appreciated and always welcomed!**

**~MsBBSue**


	2. Chapter 2

******Disclaimer: I do not own any Legend of Zelda characters, nor the series or anything of or relating to said title-except some games, but I do not own the rights to any of it. I am not profiting from this. This is purely for entertainment purposes.**

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**Chapter Two:**

I jump as I realize it is a body I am pressed against. "Forgive me," I quickly apologize as I turn towards my fellow Gerudo. The face that looks back at me is, however, not the kind I expected. I bow my head deeply and keep my eyes low for it is royalty I have interrupted.

King Ganondorf Dragmire stares at me for a moment, taken aback almost. His hands, as if delayed, rise, pause and then quickly cover his eyes. "Forgive me, sweet sister," he says. I furrow my brow, curious as to what his cause for discomfort is.

"It is I who should be averting eyes," I say slowly. His head shakes making me pinch my cheeks up with confusion. King Ganondorf then turns away from me. I look down at myself and wonder what it is that could force him to look away. "Do I offend you, my king?" I ask with a shrug.

"_You_ are not," he answers. "However, it is your attire that does… or should I say… lack there of."

I take a step back. Never once had a fellow Gerudo shown such dismay to one's nudeness. As children, we were praised for being stark naked. It was a way one bonded with her sisters and liberated herself. For our confirmation of the Sand Goddess, we were to strip down to our buff and allow the sands of the Haunted Wasteland coat us and bind to our flesh in a sort of baptism. Being naked was as natural to us as it was to drink wine at evening meals.

"It would do no harm for a lady to have modesty, sweet sister," Kind Ganondorf Dragmire says in an official tone and shoulders tense.

"Modesty," I repeat quietly, the word having no definition at my disposal.

"_Modesty_ is something a Gerudo should have when encountering a member of the opposite sex, Nabooru." A new voice joins the equation and cuts the humid air like a knife. I turn and try to hide my shudder at the recognition of the voice. "You would not know about it because you are too young for such a thing," Giza says in a condescending tone as she walks along the stone, depleting the distance between us. Her head is held high and eyes stay locked on me. She is the very essence of glorified elegance with a dangerous balance of prideful brutality. "Forgive her, your Majesty. She is young—naïve, even." She shakes her head at me and I feel myself shrink. "Shall I escort my daughter out or…" she trails.

"I think I may well leave," the king says as he turns his head towards my birthmother, his eyes careful not to look at me.

"Very well." Giza nods. "Would you prefer company on your way back to the council quarters or may I have this time to speak with my daughter about formalities?"

The king lifts himself out of the spring and turns his shoulders towards Giza. "Do as you wish, my second," he says with a half shrug. A hand rises and ruffles his crimson hair making water spritz off. He bends for his bath sheet and strides out of the pavilion with long sure steps.

With my brow still furrowed, I bite my lip with indifference. "Nabooru." I cringe with the calling of my name. Quickly my eyes look to the water, but I turn towards the woman—not out of love but because it is a sign of respect. "When I speak to you I want to see your eyes," she spits. I close my eyes and lower my chin at the request, but, due to her status, I oblige.

Her arms are crossed over her chest making her narrow shoulders appear broader. "Are you not supposed to be with Alma?" she asks with a sly grin on her face for she already knows the answer.

My eyes drift to her feet and I give a short nod. "Yes, Giza," I say.

"Then, pray tell, why are you here?" I twist my head and idly sway as my mouth makes noises that do not allow my true intelligence to shine. To make matters worse, Giza claps her hands once; loud and crisp in the empty pavilion. "Eyes up here," she barks, her index and middle fingers spread out pointing to her own ember orbits.

I clear my throat and close my mouth. There was a way about her that could render even the most talented linguistic subject to neutral fillers such as ums and ahs. I pull my pony tale over my shoulder and begin to stroke it, a coping mechanism I startes as a young girl.

"I was brought here," I begin, Giza's left eyebrow arches. I shyly watch her for a moment before continuing, debating on whether she truly wished for an explanation or to ridicule me for spending my time idly. "During my group training, I was tested by Dalibora." A smile pulls at the middle aged woman's lips. Dalibora and herself were good friends—like minded individuals, they were. "As you can imagine, I was near incapable of walking after the lesson," I say a-matter-of-factly, gaining confidence with her smile. "Ariel and Aviel brought me here so I could heal in the hot spring." I shake my head quickly. "The waters have done their job—and I am more than ready to get back to my former engagements."

Giza's stance relaxes and she pops her hip out slightly. "That will be unneeded," she says with a blink of her eyes. I feel my brows furrow. "Quickly, child; get dressed and report to my quarters immediately, for there are matters that need to be discussed."

She begins to turn away and I feel myself take a step closer to her. "Forgive my indulgence, Giza," I say. "But what is this about?"

Giza turns back and narrows her eyes with a curious expression on her face. "Many things," she says with a thoughtful nod. I give a shrug and her lips pull into a smirk. "For instances, one portion of the subject matter will be on modesty." She then spins around on her heels and leaves with a condescending chuckle echoing off the rocks.

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**As always, reviews are much appreciated and always welcomed!**

**~MsBBSue**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Legend of Zelda characters, nor the series or anything of or relating to said title-except some games, but I do not own the rights to any of it. I am not profiting from this. This is purely for entertainment purposes.**

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**Chapter Three:**

As I wander through the camp once more, this time alone, I see the Gerudo do as they should. Some women carry spears, marching up and down the designated pathways while others stand erect on the perimeter of the camp. With these women guarding, others wander through the camp, some with water pots, others with fine cloth, but all who wander outside in the heat are moving, not a single woman seems to be idling aside from myself.

I turn my head as I watch a group of young women training with their blades. They swipe and jab, but always stop right before making their blades meet flesh. Suddenly, something collides with my shoulder and I fall back. There is a crash and then curses. As I look up to the force, I feel myself cowering. She is not a superior but she is higher up than a child and she is not afraid to take advantage of her position.

"I am terribly sorry, sister," I say as I begin to pick up the pieces of smashed pottery.

The woman kicks at a large piece making sand fly up and hurl into my face. "Do you have any idea how long it took to make that?" she barks. As I scurry to my feet blindly with the pieces in my hands, I try to release another apology but she cuts me off. "This is why daughters should stick to their lessons indoors!" She grabs the broken bits and tosses them to the sand. "Off with you, or, so help me Sand Goddess, I will report you to Giza!" Without another second spent, I race off. My heart is hammering in my chest and lungs restricted from panic; I keep running even after I know the woman has turned her eyes from me.

When I finally stop, my heart feels as though it will erupt in my chest as my breath threatens to burn my lungs out of use. "It would appear you are a favorite amongst our sisters as well." I clasp my chest and straighten my back. "Perhaps she is right to be angry…" he says in a ponderous voice. "However, she has no reason to kick sand onto a fellow Gerudo." I turn my head and see King Ganondorf Dragmire examining his fingernails. His amber eyes rise to mine and I quickly look to the tangerine sand. "We do not even do that to our enemies."

"Forgive me, my king, but I must be on my way," I whisper, nearly tripping over my words as I begin to walk away. I hear his footsteps sound behind me, but I do my best to ignore his pursuit. I turn my head over my shoulders and furrow my brow as he stops in his tracks, looking out at the sky whimsically.

I heighten my pace, a swift walk bordering on a jog, and, once again, I hear his steps. I turn once more, my ponytail fanning out at the speed and I feel a smirk pull at my lips as my king drops to the sand and lays there, pretending to sleep. The surrounding sisters stop and stare, some breaking into laughter while others roll their eyes. "You fool no one," I say. "My king," I add quickly, forgetting who I speak to.

As I turn back around, he begins to snore making those who watch grin and laugh. Once more, I am off; the council's marquee sits just up ahead. I hear King Ganondorf Dragmire stand and soon I am charging. I make a quick turn just before the marquee and watch as he races past me only to turn back and fly into my direction.

"I've caught you," I say. My arms fold and brow furrows as I look up to the king with anger. I feel a laugh come up from my belly and out as the tall man grips a tent's flap and hides behind it, his legs exposed and shaking with fake fear. "Oh, where did you go?" I ask sarcastically as he pulls the flap down, exposing his eyes and quickly brings it up as he sees me.

I run a hand through my hair and tighten my ponytail. I roll my eyes and shake my head as he continues with the game. "I really must be off," I say.

"Where are you off to?" he asks, still hiding behind the flap.

I take a deep breath and bury my feet in the sand below. "That is not of your concern, my king," I say as I lower my chin.

He drops the tent's flap and takes a step forward, his back straight and shoulders back. "If I have brought up something that shames you, I did not mean to," he says. "I simply wished to apologize to you for how… coolly I interacted with you earlier. I did not mean to embarrass you—especially in front of Giza." His hand rises to his forehead as his head shakes from side to side. "Had I known she was your mother…"

"It is my fault," I say. "I should not have been in the springs."

King Ganondorf smiles as he looks down at me. "Is that an acceptance?"

I nod my head. "Yes, your apology is accepted, my king."

"Good." He clears his throat. "I shall leave you to your… duties?"

"Thank you," I say and without further ado, the tall king walks back the way he chased me. I feel myself relax as if my muscles had been tense the entire time. My eyes pierce around the tents I stand between, looking for a face that happened to bear witness to the encounter, but none are seen. Without further delay, I make my way to the entrance of the marquee, fear engulfing me at the matters of which Giza wishes to discuss.

Two guards stand before the maroon marquee and, as they see my face, they uncross-cross their spears and pull back the flaps for me to enter. Small holes at the top of the tent allow streams of light to spring through, brightening the inside and allowing one to see. Though on the outside the marquee is shaped as rectangular, the inside is divided; a large circle is what one walks into first—a foyer of sorts, off to the right and left, two square rooms sit, and to the corners of the rectangle on the outside, two triangles make is up for each.

Both squares are studies, one reserved for the king and the other used interchangeably by both Giza and Dalibora, her second. The triangles are used as bedrooms and baths, for only five people sleep in the marquee leaving room for such luxury in the marquee. I turn to the left and push back the curtain to the study only to see Giza sitting over a floor table with document and maps splayed about, overlapping one another, some even on the rugs, as if she did not have enough room on the table. She was never the most organized woman to roam the desert.

"Take a seat," she says without raising her eyes from the documents. Quickly, I close the curtain and seat myself on one of the three purple pillows before her table. She sucks in a breath and releases it as she pens down a note on parchment. Finally, when the quill has stopped moving, her eyes look to me. "Many things to do about," she starts and then raises her brows as if realizing who she speaks to and stops. "Many things…"

She readjusts herself on her pillow seat and finally, she begins, "It has come to my attention that your seventeenth name day is underway." I nod. "You and I both know what the seventeenth year of a Gerudo's life means, yes?" Again, I nod. "The Right of Passage," she says as her eyes drift down to the documents again.

She pushes back her thick bang and lazily looks back to me. "If you are successful with the Right of Passage, you will be expected to act as a proper civilized young Gerudo." She arches a brow. "It might be harder for you than you think, Nabooru." I feel my jaw clench at the blow. "Keep in mind that once you have gone under the ceremony, Alma will no longer be a necessity to you. She will no longer be your milk-mother, simply just another of your sisters.

"We do not tolerate adults calling other adults 'daughter'," she says through gritted teeth. I nod my head. Alma never called me daughter; she was far too clever to do such a thing. "On the eve of your name day, you must travel to the east led by Alma. She will then take you to the statue of our dear Sand Goddess. That is where the Rite shall take place." I nod. Giza's cold yellow eyes look into mine as she warns, "Do not, under any circumstances, have anyone follow you. Do I make myself clear? Not Ariel, not Aviel; no one."

"Understood," I say knowing full well how difficult it would be.

"Now," Giza says, her elbows slide down and rest on her knees and her back hunches over. "On what day do I get to bear witness to this—" she brightens her face with a smile so insincere it almost seems like a painting, "—marvelous occasion?"

I feel myself sink slightly. It is her way of asking what day she birthed me, what day I began living and breathing on my own. I look to the documents on the table, trying to hide my hurt. "Two days from now," I say through the side of my mouth.

Giza tosses her head back and releases a chuckle from the back of her throat. When she is finished, she raises her brows and sighs. "Hard to believe it was seventeen years ago to the day that I began to feel the worst pain I have ever felt in my life." She shakes her head. "During the days before your Rite, I would like you to pay visits to Dalibora—your combat tutor—," she says as if the woman's name does not strike familiarity in me, "—during your visits, she will explain to you what will be expected of you after the ceremony, if you pass."

"And if I do not?" I ask.

Giza furrows her brow making a line deepen on the bridge of her nose. "Do you doubt yourself so?" she asks, disgust apparent on her face. "No need to think of such things, Nabooru. Your focus should be on passing—not failing, understand?"

"Yes, Giza."

She looks up to the tent's ceiling; her eyes tracing each hole for light. "Best be off, our evening meal will be served shortly. You would not want Aviel and Ariel to get worried," she says as she waves her hands towards me.

I nod. "Of course not, Giza." As I make way to the curtain door, there is a shift in air. From the moment I first stepped foot into the marquee, I felt as though I was unwanted, a burden in a sense. Now, it feels as though the burden has been lifter. I turn my head partly back to Giza. She holds her head in her hands, her eyes shut closed and mouth pinched tight. Something is odd.

"I thought you were going to teach me about modestry," I say, turning fully back.

Giza's eyes open and a smile fills her mouth. "You mean _modesty_, and no, I wish not to teach you. Some things in life are best learnt firsthand."

I furrow my brow. "I do not mean to pry, but what is the word?"

Giza stands from her pillow seat and steps around the table. Her hand reaches the back of her neck and she thinks for her words. Finally, her eyes widen and brows rise. "Alright," she starts. "How are you with a staff?"

I give a shrug. "Not as good as I'd like," I admit.

Giza arches a brow. "You say that while Dalibora tells me you are amongst one of the few who can keep up in group lessons." I feel my jaw slack slightly. "She praises to me about you while you tell me you could be better. That is modesty; believing you are less than what you truly are, Nabooru."

"Why would one want to be that way?"

Giza looks to the rug for a moment, a grin pulling at her cheeks. "Sometimes, a man enjoys a woman to show such qualities. They find it rather charming," Giza says with a smirk as she looks past me. "He feels women should be ashamed to show off their bodies—,"

"Like the Hylians," I say with a nod.

"Yes, like the Hylians." Giza purses her lips for a moment, pondering the words she wishes to say. "I will tell you this only because I wish for you to do your best for the tribe, understand?" I nod. "When choosing a mate, it is usually best to try to hide your body when he—," I clamp my ears as red brightens my face. When I release them, Giza is laughing. "A conversation best reserved for Alma, I presume," Giza says.

"Yes—," I nod, "—definitely." With little less than a goodbye, I clumsily pull at the curtains and leave the study. When I finally exit the marquee, my cheeks slowly stop burning and lessen to a more natural colour.

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**My apologies for the longer chapter. It is kind of bordering along the excessive side.**

**As always, reviews are much appreciated and always welcomed!**

**~MsBBSue**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Legend of Zelda characters, nor the series or anything of or relating to said title-except some games, but I do not own the rights to any of it. I am not profiting from this. This is purely for entertainment purposes.**

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**Chapter Four:**

"Ah, so dear old Giza wishes for you to pay a visit with the nasty haggard Dalibora," Aviel says with a laugh. She sways slightly on the bench as she looks down at her empty mug.

I feel the warmth of our mead, but nowhere the same as my friend, and for good reason. At meals, children were only permitted one cup of wine or mead, no more and no less. Aviel and Ariel, the sneaky little rogues they were, however, happened to have done a few favors for one of the women in charge of the drinks and, so, with minimal black mail, the two drank their fair share and more.

"You should not call her that," I say through the side of my mouth though the lesson earlier that day made me feel otherwise.

"She's a good woman and damn well great with sword," Ariel announces, dropping her fist on the table as the girls around turn their attention to her. The young woman's cheeks blush and quickly she lowers her head.

I reach my hand out and grip hers for comfort as she slowly gains back her composure. I shake my head. "It will only be for the next two days," I say.

"Do you think it will be some sort of special training?" Aviel slurs out. "Imagine that!" She laughs. "You learning how to kill a man with little less than a flick of the wrist while the rest of us learn how to warn off intruders!" She waves her hands and buzzes her lips though the buzz sounds more like something one does in the bathroom due to her tongue sliding out slightly.

"Oh, hush, Aviel!" Ariel pushes herself straight. "I think it's wonderful," she says while turning to me. Her dazzling amber eyes sparkle with the drink as one eye looks slightly off. Whenever she indulged in drink, her left eye would become cocked. "Now—," she smiles and pushes her plate out of the way as she leans on the table, "—tell us more about what happed in the springs."

I lower my head. While Aviel was all about swords and blood, Ariel loved to coddle the idea of romance and love. "I swear on the three Hylian goddesses, nothing happened; other than an awkward encounter and Giza's scolding."

"Giza can probably kill a man with just a blink of her eyes," Aviel says longingly before a sigh and distant look.

Ariel narrows her eyes and purses her lips. "You know the three goddesses are not recognized in these parts!" She props her head up. "Something did happen, didn't it?"

"No—," I screech out but quickly hush as a voice more powerful than thunder's boom calls out.

"Sisters—," the hall silences to little less than forks dropping to their plates and women humming softly in interest, "—I am pleased to announce that our dear king wishes to join us in the hall tonight. Perhaps it would be best to be on only our _greatest_ behaviors." My eyes look up to see Giza standing at the front, before the Council's table. Her eyes catch mine and for a brief moment, I feel as though I am suffocating. "He will be making rounds shortly to each table. If you feel as though you must inform him about something, then, please, do so. He is here to listen to your words and concerns." She then nods and goes back to her seat, sitting like a proper lady.

As if on cue, footsteps sound on the marble, clear and crisp, their pace slow and steady—filled with confidence meant for a god. We all watch; young and old, council member and not, for it is not every evening we are graced with the presence of our king. Some of the girls at the table across from ours let out gasps and squeaks of excitement, but they are quickly silenced at the mercy of Giza's cold stare.

Ariel lets out a sigh as the young king makes way past our table and Aviel nudges her shoulder, smiling at the obvious gawking. The king is dressed to impress; pale yellow pants freshly washed, a cream tunic sparkling with golden embroidery running up the sides and across the seams. Truly, he is what the Sand Goddess wished all men to be as.

As he finally steps onto the platform and approaches the council's table, he bows to us and then sits between Giza and Dalibora. I shake my head as the others around clap for him. He is royalty, yes, but what has he done to make us worship him?

"Truly, you are in the eyes of the Sand Goddess for her to have blessed you with the sight of His Majesty as the She created him," Ariel whispers quietly as she sighs.

"There was nothing to see, I assure you," I say before a sip of my mead. "The water was foggy and there were bubbles rising from the spring."

"Yes," Aviel says with a smirk, "bubbles."

I sigh and roll my eyes. "If neither of you wish to take my words as truth, please—," I rise from the bench, "—allow me to excuse myself."

"You may be excused," Ariel says with a smile, crossing her arms over her chest and bowing her head as if saluting me.

With my lips pressed tight and jaw firmly clenched, I leave the hall. Though the two were my greatest friend, due to our closeness, they could quickly become my greatest enemies as well. When one felt one way, the other quickly followed.

As I march off the steps and onto the sand, a cool breeze blows from the north. It is refreshing; the days brought terrible heat, yet, by nightfall, everything was alive with the cool evening air. I kick at the sand trying to release my frustration and end up having the small rocks be thrown into my face from the wind.

I close my eyes and allow myself to fall to the ground. My loose hair tumbles over my shoulder and for a moment, I feel comfort in my solitude. Just as my eyes open, a figure in the dark stands just a few meters before me.

"You look like your mother when you do that," she says as she steps closer revealing the loving face of Alma. "Ever since you were a youngling, whenever you closed your eyes in thought, I would see her face molded onto yours." I raise my brow and lower my chin. Few people saw the resemblance of my mother in me other than the nose she seemed to have blessed me with.

"Going for a nice evening stroll, my copper penny?" she asks as she lowers herself to the sand. Her swollen belly makes the act difficult, but she manages with little help.

I furrow my brow. "When did they say Matilda would be back?" I ask, referring to Alma's birth daughter.

"Oh," Alma says with a sigh. "She will be gone for a very long time, I reckon." She makes a face. "They needed her in Termina—something about our sisters needing more well equipped fighters."

"Silly thing," I say. "I always thought Matilda would be here."

Alma smiles sadly. "So did I." She rubs her belly. "However, with the new one on the way, I have to be prepared for what this one will do whilst blossoming into a young viable Gerudo."

"Have they called told you who will be her milk-mother?" I ask.

Alma shakes her head. "No, not until she is born. Once in the nursery, whoever there will be given the title." She shakes her head. "I asked Giza if I could be exempted from taking on another milk-daughter." Alma's eyebrows rise. "She was more than glad to allow it." Her brows furrow. "Some might say she was relieved." We both laugh. Alma was more than known for her unconventional mothering amongst our sisters. "Now," she says, "what is troubling my poor copper penny?"

I lower my eyes to the sand and take a deep breath. "A petty thing, really," I say, my eyes timidly looking up at Alma as she nods for my continuation. "Have you not heard?" I ask. "I entered the hot spring pavilion when it was a rather exclusive time," I say, my brow rising.

"Ah, yes," Alma says with a grin. "An exclusive time, indeed—from what I heard, the young king was rather pink in the ears when he finally arrived at the council's marquee." I feel my face flush. "In fact," Alma teases, "if you looked closely at his cheeks while he entered the hall, he was still a little red—," I smack her arm and put a pout on my face as she laughs. "Perhaps it was sunburn then, yes?" I nod. "Or windburn from racing out of the pavilion," she jeers making me bury my face into my hands, a smiling breaking my pout.

"Oh, Alma, it's terrible," I say.

"Terrible, why?" she asks.

I give her a long blink. "You being our milk-mother, I would hope you know how Ariel and Aviel are."

"Ah, quite relentless, I remember," she says with a nod. "Well, sometimes it is best to wait these sorts of things out." She tucks my hair behind my ear as she leans into my face. "I also heard there was quite the entertainment in the camp this afternoon." I furrow my brow. "A certain king chasing after a silly young girl," she says in a whisper and I feel my eyes widen. "Yes, apparently he chased her all through the camp in hopes for her to turn her eyes onto him. Some were saying he dropped at the sight of her beauty—,"

"And then began snoring," I say with a roll of my eyes.

Alma's arm wraps around my shoulders. "Oh, dear girl, men do not chase a woman for no reason."

"He said he wished to apologize to me, that was all," I say.

Alma's brow arches. "He is king, what is left to apologize for? You were the one who intruded, were you not?" I nod. Alma smiles and says, "Perhaps His Majesty fancies himself one of my copper pennies, yes?" I lower my chin and shake my head. "Pity him then," she says, trying to hide her grin as she slowly rises back to her feet.

She lets out a yawn and pushes back her long crimson curls. "It would seem only fit for you to head back to the dorms, turn in for the night," she says. "You have an early morning tomorrow and if you are to spend more time than necessary with Dalibora, you need sleep more than you think."

I stand from the sand and nod. "It should make for an interesting day," I add. "Dalibora, the Second's Second." I shake my head. "It all seems so unnecessary," I say.

Alma's eyebrows invert. "You'll understand soon enough. Now off to bed, my copper penny."

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**As always, reviews are ****much appreciated and always welcomed!**

**~MsBBSue**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Legend of Zelda characters, nor the series or anything of or relating to said title-except some games, but I do not own the rights to any of it. I am not profiting from this. This is purely for entertainment purposes.**

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**Chapter Five:**

I roll onto my side; my blanket tossed away for the day's heat is too much to bear with more fabric around me than necessary. As the mattress's ropes creak with my weight, my heart skips a beat with the warmth of sunlight on my skin. My eyes widen and I sit straight up, a gasp escaping my lips and panic making sweat instantly bead on my flesh.

With a push, I fly from my bed, tripping over my own feet as I struggle to pull a pair of the traditional white billowing bottoms over my bare legs. I fall onto my side as my left foot hangs in the air and my balance fails me. As I force myself up, my arms are reaching through a matching crop top until my eyes see what stands at the foot of my doorway. My mouth falls open and my heart sinks; there is no need for further haste.

"I was told I might find you here," she says as she takes a step further into my dorm room. Two other beds sit along the far wall—belonging to Ariel and Aviel—perfectly made with their pillows tucked nicely under their sheets with a wool blanket folded neatly at their ends. "Nice to see the twins take as much care for their room as they do their combat training," Dalibora says, her arms folding across her chest as her eyes slowly look down at me on the floor.

As I readjust my top, I bow my head short and quick. "It is a pleasure seeing you, mistress," I nearly cough out through an almost swollen throat.

"Hardly," she says with a sly grin. Her chrome yellow eyes examine the room further until they land back on me. "If only you took the same pride as Aviel and Ariel…" She shakes her head. "No matter," she says. "You are late. Training started nearly an hour ago—,"

I feel myself cringe. She left the lesson in order to find me. "I am terribly sorry, Dalibora—,"

"Don't be," she says with an almost cheerful smile. "It would have been more convenient if you were there, but with you away from the girls, none will wonder where I am taking you." Dalibora narrows her eyes. "The fewer questions, the better off we all are." She turns her back to me and begins to leave, pulling the curtain door away. She stops; her back straight and shoulder back. "You _are_ coming, aren't you?" There is a snicker in the air. "Or do you wish to spend the rest of your day snoozing it away, girl?" I shake my head though she does not see the protest. Quickly, I scramble to my feet and follow her.

It is a strange thing to change a very strict routine. Since the day the group of girls I have been associated with were deemed, in unison, eleven, I have woke every morning at the crack of dawn. When breakfast is set in the hall, I would go and eat; when it was finished, I would head out and do my share of chores with the rest of the girls—often dishes and occasionally laundry. Usually, by the time everything was done, it would be high time to head out for training where we would all see each other once again.

Dalibora, from the day I entered her lessons, had always been a scowl on two legs—however, she was not my first teacher. My group's first was a woman who went by the name Vör. She was a wonderful tutor. We were all shocked when Dalibora came into the hall and announced that our dear Vör had left that night to Termina. A terrible thing, really, for it meant Dalibora would be teaching us for the rest of our remaining years as children.

Not all was bad, however. All across camp, it was known Giza and Dalibora were two of the best combat warriors—both with scimitars and barehanded. One of the girls once said, "For each bark and holler Dalibora released was only but a scratch of her true warrior shining through." Some went as far as saying a woman as grand with battle as Dalibora had no time to be sweet and kind to those she taught. I and my milk-sisters, however, did not believe that. Dalibora was just, pardon my language, a calloused old _witch_.

"Take a seat—Sand Goddess only knows how many times you've been told that here," Dalibora says as we enter her and Giza's study. I lower myself to a pillow seat as she does the same on the opposite side of the short table. As she looks across the table at me, something behind her eyes changes. The harshness is almost shadowed by something else—maybe I am just seeing things.

"Giza told you I would be giving you lessons, correct?" she asks and I nod quickly. "Do you know what kind of lessons?"

I furrow my brow. What lesson would be taught by Dalibora aside from the one thing she does best? "Combat?" I shrug.

The woman lets out a chuckle and shakes her head. "This is not combat training—no." She nudges her head at the furniture around us. "Fighting in here would cause more to break than just bones. Some of these things we cannot replace. Bones are an easy fix in comparison."

She takes a deep breath, her smile slowly disappearing from her lips. "Giza has asked me to do this with the expectation she will do the same for my girls. This is simply me asking you about our culture and way of life." I feel my back straighten. I know much about our people—I should, at least.

"Alright," I say with a nod. "I am ready—,"

"No doubt you are—but before a daughter becomes a sister, they must listen to their… elder—not that I am old—,"

"Of course not," I say trying to hide my smile.

"Thank you," Dalibora says. "There will be a final exam later on. There, you will be granted permission to become a fellow sister or stay as a child for the remainder of your life, really it all depends on if you fail or succeed." A shiver crawls up my spine. "I guess you could call this the study period." A smile curves her lips. "Tell me what you know of the Gerudo, Nabooru."

I furrow my brow. Was this a trick question? "The Gerudo are an all female race only governed by a single male every one hundred years." Dalibora nods silently. "When the male child comes of age, his word and his word alone is what we follow—,"

"Then why do we have the council?"

I chew my bottom lip for a moment. "The council is there to help the king make decisions. They give him their input; they try to influence him to make a decision that is better suited for his people."

"Yes," Dalibora says with narrowed eyes. "Now, what is all this nonsense about sorceresses in our tribe?" she asks.

"Sorceresses have been amongst the Gerudo for millennia. They have been—in some cases—some of the best Gerudo. In others," I lower my head—, "—they have been little to no help."

"Do we have any sorceresses amongst us now?"

"Well," I say looking up at the woman, "in stories of old, it is said that when the male Gerudo is born, he shall be taken in by our tribe's sorceress—but I have yet to discover if we truly have one."

Dalibora's brow furrows, something hides behind her eyes—but still I cannot see it. She leans towards me. "What do you know of the hierarchy of the tribe?"

I swallow. "Firstly, the king is at the highest point in our tribe. We all have to obey his word. The Second in Command is—," I wave my hand with my words, "—the second. Her second in command is the third most respectable position." My eyebrows knit and I shake my head slightly. "I thought this was a lesson—,"

"It is," Dalibora says. "But first, I need to know what you know."

I take a breath, my brow still inverted. "After the Second's second, comes expecting mothers. After the mothers, comes the warrior and raiders alike." My eyebrows rise. "Then the guards, the cooks, and, lastly, the children," I say.

Dalibora's eyes slit. "You forgot one group." I make a face. "The travelers," she says with a slow nod.

"The travelers?" I say.

"Women from the tribe who wonder through neighboring countries in search for whatever the king and the tribe needs. Sometimes they bring back food, other times they escort the women for their Mingles."

"Mingles," I repeat, the word feeling strange.

Dalibora lets out a short chuckle. "You poor child." She shakes her head. "Mingles are how we… reproduce." She grins slightly. "Our travelers search for proper men who are willing and bring them our women who are indebt to the tribe."

I nod slightly. "Indebt meaning they need to add on to the tribe with their own blood." Now it is Dalibora's turn to nod.

"Tell me, Nabooru, has anyone ever discussed with you your treasure box?" she asks. I furrow my brow deeply and shake my head. Never in my life had I ever had a treasure box and, if I did, I would have no idea what to find in it.

Dalibora presses her lips together tightly and sighs. "Every woman is born with a treasure box. They hold a very sacred treasure—one that only the woman who carries it may give to a very special person." I narrow my eyes as she continues. "Men—both inside and outside of the fortress—hold the key to the treasure boxes. Any man can use their key for any woman's treasure box, and vice versa." I nod slowly, still unsure as to where my treasure box is and what is in it. Dalibora bites her lip. "The treasure in the box can only be taken once. After that, the treasure box is but only a box."

I narrow my eyes, wondering where Alma would have placed mine and why she would choose to hide it from me. I lean towards Dalibora, slightly embarrassed. "Where is mine?" I ask timidly, innocent curiosity echoing in my voice.

Dalibora raises her eyebrows and I quickly recoil. She lowers her voice to a confident low tone. "That place where your legs meet you body—," I nod, "—that is your treasure box." I feel my face glow red and shoot my eyes to the floor. My lips part and for a moment I think I may vomit from my horror. Dalibora is not talking about a treasure box filled with jewels and pearls—she is talking about virginity. She speaks of encounters of the sexual likes—the first love making—losing one's maidenhood!

My face says it all, and Dalibora seems to take notice. "It is not something to fret about, Nabooru," she says. "It is simply something that will need to be dealt with after your Rite of Passage." I nod quickly, my eyes still firmly planted on the floor. "Tell me what you know of the nursery," she says, but my mind is swirling far too fast to give an answer further than murmurs and hums. "Nabooru," Dalibora says, a hand reaching across the table and taking one of my own. "Truly, it is not something to worry yourself over. It is something we all must go through."

I pull my hand out from under hers. "Clearly, you are too uncomfortable to continue." She straightens her back. "We shall continue after lunch. Off with you," she says with the wave of her callused hand. "Do not bother with joining your sisters. Perhaps it would do you some good to speak to Alma." I begin to stand.

"Nabooru," she calls making me turn back to her. "A weak mind is a terrible flaw. If one were to wish to pass their Rite, one might wish to strengthen themselves both physically and mentally."

With that said, I give a short and quick nod before leaving the study only to leave one awkward encounter to enter anew.

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**My apologies for the delay with the chapter. A friend of mine is having a baby and lately there has been a lot going on from planning a baby shower to staying the night with her due to contraction and of course hospital visits. I am very sorry about the minor hiatus for the last month.**

**As always, reviews are ****much appreciated and always welcomed!**

**~MsBBSue**


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